


the second-best thing

by theantepenultimateriddle



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: F/F, Post-Canon, Wow, holy fuck guys, i.... i think i pushed the tag over 100 fics, sickfic (again), they're fuckin MARRIED okay, which
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 06:08:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13805046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theantepenultimateriddle/pseuds/theantepenultimateriddle





	the second-best thing

“Lie  _ down, _ Minkowski!” Lovelace reached down and pushed gently at her wife’s shoulders, holding her down to the bed with an alarmingly small amount of effort. Minkowski struggled for a second, then slumped back, looking up with despondent, bloodshot eyes.

"I'm too busy to spend all day in bed." Her voice was hoarse and rough, and Lovelace’s heart ached for her, lying sick in bed. She knew how difficult it was to just sit and do nothing while the world went on around you. But Minkowski was ill, and ill meant bedrest, so Lovelace didn’t let her up. 

“You’re too sick to get up out of bed, either.” Lovelace looked at her for a moment, then relented. “Will you promise me that you’ll just sit there and not move if I make sure I can talk to people and postpone the things you need to do?” She was pleading a little and she knew that, but maybe pleading would work with Minkowski this time. The only other thing seemed to be displays of brute force, and that just didn’t seem fair to use against a woman who could barely move.

Minkowski looked at her for a moment, gauging her expression, then sighed. “Fine. Second-best thing.” Lovelace took her hands off of Minkowski’s arms and waited for her to try to get back up again, but Minkowski just stared blearily up at her, her eyes vaguely unfocused. “Love?” she croaked, quietly. “I don’t feel so good.”

Lovelace hated seeing Minkowski so sick and listless. It felt fundamentally  _ wrong  _ for this woman, usually so full of life. But she pushed the feeling down. Her pain wouldn’t help Minkowski. “How don’t you feel good, babe? What do you need?”

She blinked, slowly. “Nauseous,” she said. “I think I need--” Minkowski’s face went a little green, and she stopped talking. Lovelace got the message and dashed out of the room, down the hall to the kitchen, and back with a stainless steel mixing bowl. She shoved it into Minkowski’s lap, then held her hair back as Minkowski gagged and vomited into it. Minkowski heaved for what seemed like ages before she slumped back, exhausted, and Lovelace let go of her. “Sorry,” she whispered, so quietly Lovelace could barely hear it. “Sorry I’m so gross.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” said Lovelace, reaching down and stroking her hair back from her forehead. Minkowski felt like she was burning up, her skin sweaty and hot under Lovelace’s hand, and Lovelace felt bad for this. “You’re sick. It’s not like you can control it.” Minkowski tried to interrupt, but Lovelace cut her off. “Listen. Unless you can consciously control your bloodstream and tell this virus to get out, none of this is your fault. Got it?”   


Minkowski looked dejected, but she nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay. Now, can I take this bowl and clean it or do you need it still?” Lovelace gestured to the bowl of puke. Minkowski made a face and jerked her head towards the door to indicate that she’d be fine, and Lovelace nodded, picking up the bowl. She washed and rinsed it in the kitchen sink, then returned with a glass of water for Minkowski. “Here. Drink.” Minkowski drank gratefully, and Lovelace sat on the bed and waited for her to finish. Then she took the glass and set it on the bedside table carefully. “Anything else you need?”

“I’m cold,” said Minkowski, slowly. “Will you…?” 

She trailed off, but Lovelace got her meaning. “Of course.” She slowly climbed into bed next to Minkowski and wrapped herself around her feverish body, holding tight onto her. Minkowski melted into her gratefully, and slowly her eyes fluttered shut and she went to sleep in Lovelace’s arms.


End file.
